


Have a Cuppa Tea

by keelywolfe



Series: Slice of Life [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Morning Sex, Romance, Tea, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo preferred a single cube of sugar in his tea, slightly uncouth, but within acceptable limits.</p>
<p>And then there were Dwarves…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sequel to 'Doorways'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a Cuppa Tea

* * *

Hobbits were not, quite, born fond of tea. Infants were allowed the usual luxury of mother's milk and when that well was dry, that was when tea was brought in. A bit at a time, with plenty of hot milk and sugar and eventually one had manners enough to take their tea as a grown Hobbit should; plain and with biscuits. 

Bilbo preferred a single cube of sugar in his tea, slightly uncouth, but within acceptable limits.

And then there were Dwarves…

From within his cozy nest of blankets, Bilbo watched with no small amusement as Thorin prepared the tea exactly as he had been taught and it was exact, down to using the small tongs to drop a solitary cube of sugar into Bilbo's tea. In his hands, the tongs looked like a child's toy but then, Bilbo was not one to ever doubt the dexterity of Dwarves. 

Then Thorin attended to his own cup, a large, stoneware mug, more appropriate for a firm grip than Bilbo's delicate porcelain, and it took half the pot to fill it. The tongs were put to good use as Thorin dropped in cube after cube of sugar and Bilbo hid his grimace into his upraised knees, only imagining the syrupy depths that were all that remained of a perfectly good cup of tea. 

For a moment, the demise of the tea was forgotten and Bilbo could be given leeway for his distraction, for that was the moment Thorin took both cups in his hands and rose to his feet in one smooth, graceful movement. The shift of the muscles in his thighs was perfectly visible as his trousers stretched taut and Bilbo could only mourn that it was such a brief moment. 

He schooled his expression to one of bland thankfulness as he was given his cup, steadying it with one hand. With the other, Bilbo lifted one corner of his many layers of blanket in hopeful invitation, for as comfortable as the fire was, a toasty Dwarf was simply the perfect thing to warm a chilled Hobbit on a snowy morning. 

It was entirely possible Thorin would not take his offer, Bilbo knew. Much as Bilbo wished that Thorin's attentions could be on him whenever the whim struck, it was a plain fact that a King did not always have the time for such indulgences. In the scale of things, one Hobbit was rather a small fellow, whether or not they had the love of a King. 

Instead, he might well get a kiss on his hair or his forehead, a press of lips that was as much apology as it was affection. If that were so, Bilbo would accept it as it was and nurse his grudging sullenness over it in the back of his mind. A shrieking temper tantrum held only in his thoughts and Thorin would never hear a word of it, to be sure. 

All his worrisome thoughts proved to be for naught, for Thorin did not hesitate. He only slipped beneath the blankets with Bilbo and tucked him easily between his legs so that he might lay back against the broad warmth of Thorin's chest with his cup. Bilbo sighed in contentment, cozily warm and finally the chill seemed to be leaving even the tip of his nose. He took a sip of his tea and let it warm him further. 

"I daresay you make a better cup of tea than I do," Bilbo said, with a great deal of reluctance for all that it was true. Thorin had a surprisingly good eye for watching tea steeping and knew the precise moment to pour. He couldn't resist adding, "You might consider drinking more tea than sugar someday and you could well be able to tell the difference."

Thorin was unperturbed by Bilbo's needling, much as he had been all the past times Bilbo had made mention of it, "If I must drink tea, then I will drink it as I like it."

"You like it as something that could be eaten with a spoon," Bilbo said dryly. "I've had cakes with less sugar than you prefer. Perhaps I should take to adding milk, if you're so determined to enjoy it as a Hobbit child would." 

Thorin's rumble of laughter carried through Bilbo and his breath was tea-sweetened as he murmured close to Bilbo's ear, "And I would indulge in it. So long as that is the only way I remind you of a child."

"Ah….yes…" Bilbo mumbled, a bit stupidly, and again, he would have to be forgiven for it for he would like to meet anyone who could be unaffected when someone was pressing damp, tea-scented kisses to their ears, breathing soft words that Bilbo's stumbling mind did not quite catch. He fumbled to set his empty cup to the side with a clatter, drawing his hand back into their warm nest of blankets, cocooned in decadent heat that was an equal balance of the hearth and Thorin. 

There was a soft clunk, what Bilbo imagined a large mug being set aside might sound like, and then two strong arms circled his waist, holding him in against Thorin's chest. He was surrounded, engulfed, strong, heavy legs on either side of him, equally strong arms around him. A chin set on his shoulder and dark hair spilled down to tickle at his neck and collarbone. Thorin was behind him and all around him and instead of feeling trapped, Bilbo only felt…safe. Safe, yes, he was safe right here in a way he never would have dreamed he might be. 

As though Bilbo's thoughts had tumbled out of his head and into Thorin's ear, Thorin chose that moment to ask, softly, "Are you warm enough now? I do not want you getting a chill."

Bilbo closed his eyes and sighed at the melting softness that filled him at those simple words. Of course Thorin would be worried; he'd never forgotten how very ill Bilbo had been at Laketown and there was no amount of reassurance that would make him believe that a quick tussle in the snow was not about to leave Bilbo at Death's door. 

Still, it was worth trying, "I'm just fine," Bilbo said, firmly, squirming to get a bit more comfortable and if that earned him a startled gasp, well, Thorin was the one who'd put him here. "I have blankets and tea and you. That would warm the iciest of toes, I think."

Thorin's arms tightened until Bilbo swore he felt his ribs creak. "It is not your toes that concern me."

"Indeed?" Bilbo murmured. "I'm sure there are a great many of my parts that are worrisome to you. I assure you that each and every one of them is well enough." 

Thorin only hummed a low sound, neither agreeing nor disagreeing and Bilbo thought that it might be a fitting end to that argument.

Left to his own devices in front of the fire with warm blankets and tea, he might very well have fallen asleep. Spent his morning napping and dreaming of snow until his belly chose to inform him that he'd missed luncheon and it would be ever so grateful if he didn't allow dinner to fall to the wayside as well. Instead, the feel of a strong Dwarf against him, warm as the hearth and his lips a gentle tease against Bilbo's jaw was giving him another idea entirely. 

Another wriggle revealed that Thorin had a rising interest in other activities. Bilbo smiled, the firelight glowing red behind his eyelids, and twined his hand with Thorin's, drawing it lower to the warm bulge of his own interest.

"Master Baggins, you are terribly bold today." Thorin rubbed his thumb firmly down the length of it, sweet pressure even through his trousers. He followed it with the heel of his palm, his fingers still tangled with Bilbo's and the shivery moan that welled out of Bilbo's throat was soft over the crackle of the fire.

"You…you prefer a forthright approach in…in all things," Bilbo managed. A deliberate shift of his hips dragged his backside against the firming length bound behind Thorin's trousers and granted him a low growl. Two large hands caught his hips, manhandling him until Thorin could grind up against him, his arm strong around Bilbo's waist, holding him in. 

"And you are as straightforward as a Wizard," Thorin growled, allowing no time for Bilbo to take offense as a large hand cupped him between the legs, "This speaks more plainly."

Had his thoughts been less cluttered, words garbling in his throat into incoherence, Bilbo might have showed him how straightforward he could truly be; would have told him on no uncertain terms that his prick wasn't the only part of him that had a finer appreciation of Thorin. His eyes preferred Thorin lounging on their bed, bare and golden in the firelight, his hand itched to stroke the firmness of his lightly furred belly. His mouth longed for Thorin's hard cock to fill it, his tongue eager to lap at the slickened head. 

But this, this graceless fumbling through trousers and sweating beneath blankets that were now more stifling than a comfort, this was its own loveliness. Being allowed to hear Thorin groaning close to his ear, his breath sweet with tea and sugar, softer than sound than the falling snow. His fingers were digging bruises into Bilbo's thigh and his hips hitched, straining as Thorin hissed a breath through his teeth and the knowledge that Thorin was spilling in his trousers was enough for Bilbo to arch up against Thorin's palm and follow him, biting his lip and whimpering through the bliss of it. 

He sagged back into Thorin's arms, breathing heavily, and he ignored the soft, breathless laughter that Thorin chose to grace him with.

"Hush, you," Bilbo mumbled. "There's nothing amusing about it."

"No?" Thorin gave him a smacking kiss on the ear and Bilbo couldn't summon the energy for a squawk of outrage. "I'm meant to meet Balin shortly, along with the Jeweler's Guild, and I'll need to change my trousers first like a green lad taking his first tumble in the lower mines."

"At least it wasn't a hay mow," Bilbo yawned. "Straw clings terribly to the hair."

"I'll take your word on that."

A nap seemed a particularly fine way to spend the rest of his morning and Bilbo could only muster a low grumble of protest as his somewhat lumpy and yet much loved Dwarven mattress escaped from him, tucking blankets around him until he was cocooned again in warmth. Dimly, Bilbo heard the soft clink of porcelain, cups and tea pots cleared away and a gentle kiss at his temple hardly woke him.

"Keep warm," Murmured softly against his ear and Bilbo sighed, rolling up tightly into the cozy blankets as he did just that.

-finis-


End file.
